


learning to stand

by Monkey (uglysockmonkey)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Abuse, Aftermath, Captivity, Caretaking, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Psychological Trauma, Recovery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-01-19
Updated: 2012-03-13
Packaged: 2017-10-29 19:14:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/323203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uglysockmonkey/pseuds/Monkey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of a long and damaging captivity at the hands of the Condesce, John Egbert is a shattered shell of his former self. Dave helps him remember how to pick up the pieces.</p><p>Originally posted on the kink meme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sometimes, he dreams that he is a hero and a god, that he rides the wind over a beautiful checkered planet, that he can see clearly and everything is bright. In the dream, his name is John.

When he wakes he is no one again, a toy for the empress, an exotic decoration at the side of her throne. Every day she takes him to sit at her feet, her favorite pet, leashed and nearly blind. He’s well-trained. Nothing hurts, when he does everything right.

Today, he is hungry, because she’s neglected to feed him for the last day or two or maybe more. It’s difficult to keep track of time. Whether she forgot or was punishing him, he doesn’t know, and it doesn’t matter. Asking for food is dangerous, but the faint mewling that means hunger is escaping his throat anyway. (He thinks that once he used words, but the empress didn’t like it. Or maybe that was part of the dream, too. He’s not allowed, anyway, and isn’t completely sure that he is capable of using them at all. Pets don't talk.)

The only response is a sharp kick to the ribs. John hunches over, curling in on himself and cringing down in apology. It must be enough, because no further blows come.

He remains like that until his back and neck are aching, and still he doesn’t move, not until he feels a tug at the collar that is grafted into his neck. Obediently he sits up and leans against the empress’s leg, resting his head against her knee. He is rewarded by a light pat on the head, which makes him press himself against her and nuzzle her leg, desperately grateful for physical contact. She doesn’t always allow him to touch her, and sometimes that is the only thing that can convince him he still exists in this world of vague shapes and unintelligible Alternian voices around him. Sometimes, even the pain of her blows is welcome compared to the sense that he is the only living creature in the world.

She reaches down and grabs him, half-lifting him up. He quickly scrambles up onto her lap and curls up as small as he can, pressing against her as she starts absently stroking his hair and his back. Her fingers brush lightly over his lips and he responds automatically by licking the back of her hand, just as he’d been trained. He hears her say something in Alternian, something he can’t understand but it’s a phrase he’s heard before when she is satisfied with him, and pulls her hand away.

A couple minutes later she reaches for something he can’t see and then brings her hand up under his mouth, filled with something unfamiliar that smells like food. Gratefully he eats it from her palm and it’s dry and tasteless but he doesn’t care. He’s so hungry, and it is impossible to know when she will give him anything else. In his desperation to swallow every crumb, he accidentally nips her skin between his teeth and she hits him, a hard blow to the side of his head that he doesn’t have time to brace for even though he knows it’s coming. The blow flings him to the floor and when he tries to get up, she kicks him again until he lies motionless, flat against the ground. John lies there rigid and shaking until at last it’s clear that she’s lost interest in him. He can hear her speaking to someone else behind him, probably one of the seatrolls that are her advisors or servants or something somewhere between the two. He takes advantage of her distraction to shift to a more comfortable position, but doesn’t try to get up or move otherwise. Sometimes, he knows, she prefers to forget that he exists. On those occasions, it’s best for him to forget he exists, too.

The hours pass in a meaningless blur until he senses her moving behind him, hears her jewelry jingle as she gets up, and he tenses but she still takes no notice of him. She sweeps away and he is left alone. He shifts again, taking advantage of the way he can stretch out when she doesn’t put him into the cramped cage that is his usual sleeping quarters, and tries to rest.

Eventually, he sleeps, lost to a dark dreamless peace.

 

\-----

 

When he wakes she is still not there, but someone else is, someone whose skin is too warm to be hers. Someone is touching his shoulder and he cringes back, hiding his face and curling up defensively. The touch withdraws, but he can still feel the stranger’s presence and doesn’t move.

A voice starts speaking, and a couple of moments pass before John realizes with a shock that shakes his entire being that _he understands._

“John,” the voice is muttering, and it sounds off somehow, like the other can barely speak. “What has she done to you?”

No one calls him John unless he’s dreaming. Is he dreaming?

John uncurls a little to look up at the strange, squinting to try and make out the shapes. He can’t see any horns – too small for him to make out, perhaps, amid the strange pale hair? And that’s something else he’s never seen before, except in his dreams, because he has never seen a troll with such light hair before.

The stranger, who perhaps is not a troll at all, reaches out to pick him up with impossible gentleness, and he passively lets himself be scooped up. The stranger rests his face against John’s and John responds according to his training, licking the stranger’s cheek.

The stranger jerks back, stiffening, and John cringes in the fear that he has done something wrong. But what comes next sounds strangely like a sob and then he’s being held tightly to the stranger’s chest, and John presses himself into the warmth of the stranger’s body, confused but grateful. There’s a hand stroking the back of his head, rhythmically and almost frantically.

“You don’t have to be afraid, you don’t have to do any of that, she’s gone and you’re safe now. You’re safe.”

There’s something familiar about the cadence of his voice, that pale golden hair, and a name comes to mind, something from his dreams... This has to be a dream. But it can’t be, he can see clearly in those dreams, and he can still smell the empress all around him even if she isn’t present. This is her throne room, where he belongs. But this stranger... this familiar stranger whose heartbeat ticks off the seconds John has forgotten how to count.

He tries, very, very tentatively, to voice the name in his mind, but it doesn’t come out right. An unintelligible sound, a faint cry that bears no resemblance to the syllable he’s trying to utter. But the stranger from his dream doesn’t seem to care. “Yeah. It’s me, John. It’s Dave. I’m going to bring you home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is a series of oneshots set at different points during the course of John's recovery, mostly focusing on John and Dave but sometimes on other characters and how they are affected by John's condition. Often, they aren't written in chronological order. This has developed from a oneshot hurt/comfort fic to a fully fledged AU in my brain, so if there's any character you particularly want to see, let me know in a comment and I'll see what I can do. :D


	2. Chapter 2

It is not a scent but a sound that draws Terezi closer to the door halfway down the hall. It’s been left just slightly ajar, enough that she can hear the quiet, melodious voice from within. Someone is singing, soft and low, quiet enough that she cannot make out the words, if there are words at all. She stands outside the door and listens silently, drinking it in.

It takes her a minute to realize why the quiet singing brings the color red to mind, why it is so familiar. It is Dave's voice.

She creeps forward, enough to catch a whiff of what's going on inside, and the hint of blue is more than enough to explain. It's John. Dave must be singing to John.

She has never heard him sound like this, not ever. The low husky tones are not something she would ever have associated with him, but they ring true somehow. If Dave's rapping is like his shades, then hearing him sing like this is like smelling his crimson eyes, witnessing some soft hidden part of him laid bare.

There has been a lot of Dave made vulnerable like that lately, ever since John was rescued. Something in Dave has cracked, and Terezi is not sure how deep that crack goes. It worries her.

She leans toward the door and takes a deep breath, enriching and clarifying the colors in her mind. Dave is sitting on John's bed, his arms wrapped tightly around his friend, one hand buried in John's hair. John's head is resting against Dave's chest, tremors occasionally running through his body, silent and unmoving beyond that. Dave runs one hand up and down John's back, scratching lightly between his shoulder blades, the motion unconsciously matching the rhythm of his voice.

Terezi continues to stand there and breathe in, listening to Dave's voice. John's tremors grow smaller and fewer until they stop entirely and he is still, a limp weight in Dave's arms. Dave stops singing and for a moment just sits and holds him, letting his head drop to rest on top of John's. His shoulders tremble. Then he carefully disentangles himself and lays John down on the bed, pulling a blanket over him.

Dave stands next to the bed, reaches out and lightly brushes John’s cheek. And then he starts heading toward the door and it is only now that Terezi starts to snap out of her reverie and realizes just what she's doing. She has just intruded on something terribly private, and Dave has always been a private person. She’s moving backwards as the door opens, but there is no avoiding the inevitable moment when Dave sees her. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even really move, just stiffens up and stares at her. He's got his shades off and his eyes are two pinpoints of red, brighter than anything else about him.

"Dave, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude, I just heard you--"

"Terezi," he says quietly, and he sounds so drained and weary that Terezi stops dead.

Tentatively she reaches for him, lightly touching his shoulder. Something breaks in his face and suddenly he has moved forward and has his arms wrapped tightly around her, his face buried in her shoulder. His whole lean body is hunched over her and shaking. She doesn't need the smell of salt to know he's silently sobbing.

She has no idea how long they stand like that, only that she will hold Dave as long as he needs it, as long as it takes for him to have the strength to stand again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note about pairings: the primary relationship in this fic is John and Dave, but I'm leaving pairings ambiguous for the most part. A lot of these relationships could be romantic or platonic, however you prefer to read them.


	3. Chapter 3

They hadn’t let any of the trolls in to see John yet; Rose thought he needed exclusively human contact for a while. He’d attached himself to Dave, following him everywhere and nuzzling him to show affection, and he still communicated in small wordless sounds. His language skills were nearly nonexistence. Still, there were signs of improvement. He was walking now, most of the time, and recently he’d managed to say Dave’s name. His eyes were brighter and he looked less miserable, slightly more trusting.

Even with all his progress, Dave wasn’t sure it was a good idea to let Vriska in to see him.

“I don’t trust her with him.”

“She won’t hurt him. She cares for him, Dave, she truly does. And I will be here to make sure he’s all right.” Rose sighs. “Vriska needs this. Kanaya tells me it’s been tearing her apart that she can’t be with him right now. At least we can let her see him.”

Both of them turned to look at John, curled up in the corner he’d claimed as his own. They were still working on chairs and beds. Dave had tried many times to show John that he could sleep in the bed, but he never got in of his own volition, only when Dave or Rose coaxed him. And the first time Dave had settled John into a chair, he’d perched there with his knees drawn up to his chest and such a lost look on his face that Dave had given in and let him return to his usual place on the floor, leaning against Dave’s leg.

“You’re sure you don’t need me to stay,” Dave said.

“We’ll be fine,” Rose said gently. “Jade needs you.” She patted the side of Dave’s face lightly and stepped back. “Now go.”

Dave bit his lip, and nodded. “Okay.”

He left. John looked up as the door opened, and his eyes widened. When it closed, he stood up unsteadily and went to the door. He pushed against it, scrabbling at it with his hands, until he gave up and leaned against it with a frustrated whine. “Dave,” he said, then looked up and over at Rose. “ _Dave,_ ” he pleaded, insistently.

“He’ll be back,” Rose said, walking over to John and taking him by the hand. “Don’t fret, John. He is merely paying a visit to Jade.”

She led him over to the bed and sat down, and when - predictably - he sat at her feet instead of beside her, she tugged gently on his hand and guided him up to sit next to her. He still sat more like an animal than a human, crouching forward on his haunches, and breaking the habit had been nearly impossible thus far. John sighed deeply and leaned his head against Rose’s arm, making one of his strange little wordless mewling sounds that nearly tore Rose’s heart in two every time she heard them.

“We’re to have a visitor of our own today, John,” she told him, reaching over to stroke his hair. She hated doing it, doing anything that would make him feel like a pet rather than a person, but it was one of the few ways they’d found of soothing him. It was almost impossible to keep him calm without petting him sometimes. “Vriska is coming to see you. Remember her?” John made no response, and Rose wondered, not for the first time, how much he even understood anymore. “She misses you a great deal. I know she is looking forward to seeing you again.”

She felt John relaxing against her. Good. If he was calm and at ease when Vriska arrived, maybe this would go smoothly. She was starting to get a little nervous. Perhaps Vriska hadn’t been the best choice... maybe someone like Karkat would have been better, one of the lowbloods, one of the males, someone with smaller horns and shorter hair that might not remind him of the Condesce. But Vriska and John had been close before he was taken and she was clearly still flushed for him… if anyone deserved to see him now, it was her.

It was a few hours later and John was nearly asleep when the door opened slowly. “John?”

John’s head jerked up at the sound of his name (Rose and Dave had been elated when he started responding to it again), though his face was wary. Rose continued petting the back of his head, gentle and soothing.

Vriska stepped into the room, letting the door close behind her. Her eyes were fixed on John, her face more openly nervous than Rose had ever seen her. “...Hey.” She took a hesitant step forward. Rose straightened, taking John’s hand again and pulling him to his feet to meet her. The two of them stood about a foot apart, gazes locked, and Rose couldn’t read the expression on John’s face.

“Do you remember me?” Vriska said softly.

John was searching her face, a confused expression in his blue eyes. He stepped forward, pulling free of Rose’s hand, his movements very slow and cautious. Rose could see the tension in him, preparing to bolt the moment something frightened him. For a few moments both of them remained tentatively still, then Vriska reached out and smoothed John’s hair out of his face. He twitched at the touch. “You don’t have to be afraid of me,” she said, an edge to her voice now, hurt and grief and anger all mixing into her tone. “I’m not going to hurt you like _she_ did, I-”

The undertone of anger that had suddenly come into her voice made John flinch, and he whimpered, seeming to shrink down. John turned to lick at the hand that Vriska had outstretched, a gesture which made her jerk it back in shock. Rose winced. “Vriska, just let him... it’s... he’s trying to calm you down. He hasn’t completely broken the habit yet.”

Vriska snarled. “Why? Because that sick _bitch_ got off on making him do it? What did she _do_ to him? John--”

But John was on the floor now, cringing at Vriska’s feet and curling into himself. He was trembling fitfully. Rose was instantly at his side, stroking his back soothingly, and looked up at Vriska with a pained expression. “You’re scaring him, Vriska,” she said. “Calm down.”

And at that moment, the worst possible moment, Dave opened the door. In an instant, his eyes took in the scene in front of him – John cowering on the floor, Vriska’s face stiff with fury. “What the _hell,_ Vriska?” he said furiously.

At the sound of his voice, even angry as it was, John’s head jerked up. He scrambled over to Dave on all fours, mewling pitifully, and nuzzled his leg. Dave crouched down by him, reaching out to scratch the back of John’s head with one hand and grasping his shoulder reassuringly with the other. “We just got him to stop crawling everywhere,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t--” Vriska stammered, still badly shaken by the full reality of John’s condition.

“Get out,” Dave growled. “Now.”

Rose stood, frowning. “It is not entirely her fault. I was in error; I do not believe John was ready to encounter a troll yet.”

“Yeah?” Dave snapped. “Gee, wouldn’t it have been nice if someone had warned you it was too soon? Oh right, _I did_. Several times. And you still wouldn’t listen to me. Believe me _now,_ Rose?”

He was distracted from his tirade by something warm and wet touching his wrist; John was licking him timidly, whimpering and pressing close to his side. He was clearly distressed by the angry voices around him. Dave gently tried to pull him away, forcing the anger out of his voice. “John, stop. It’s okay, I’m not angry at you, all right?” He ran his fingers through John’s hair, and John leaned into the touch, closing his eyes.

“Dave,” he murmured, a half-sob.

“Yeah, that’s me, I’m here.”

Vriska watched them, the hurt plain in her face. “He trusts him.” Rose could hear her trying valiantly to fight back jealousy, to swallow her considerable pride for John’s sake. It could not have been easy.

“Dave is the only one John really trusts right now,” Rose said quietly. “That will improve, with time.”

“I should be--” Vriska started, then cut herself off. “I should leave,” she said curtly, and headed for the door, giving John and Dave a wide berth.

“I’ll let you know,” Rose said gently. “When he is ready to see you. He’s improving, Vriska, I promise.”

Vriska stared at her, looking almost as lost as John himself for a moment, before silently slipping out of the room again.


	4. Chapter 4

The empress is gone. John isn’t sure why, or how, but she must have abandoned him, because it has been a very long time since he’s seen her now.  
  
Instead, there are others. There is Dave, the one who found him, and others whose names John does not always remember, other people from his dreams. At first, he thought he was still dreaming, but by now he is pretty sure they are real. And they are kind to him. He is still getting used to that. For a long time he was very convinced (is still halfway convinced) that the empress left him because he was a bad pet, worthless enough to discard. For a long time he waited (is still waiting, really) for Dave to figure that out for himself. Once he realizes what a bad pet John is, Dave will discard him too, or start hurting him like the empress did. But it hasn’t happened yet.  
  
Dave talks to him differently. He speaks to John in a language that John can almost understand, most of the time. He pets John and never hits him, never kicks or chokes him, and John is actually allowed off his leash. In fact, after Dave takes the leash off that first time in the empress’s throne room, he never puts it back on. He never denies physical contact, always remembers to feed him, almost never yells (and never, ever at John).  
  
John tries to do everything Dave tells him. He is not scared of Dave but he is very, very scared of messing up. Sooner or later, he knows he is going to do something wrong and Dave is going to hurt him too. Already, he has done things that he still shivers to think about, even if Dave never punished him the way he deserved. Once, he hurt Dave by accident, lashing out violently when Dave woke him from a nightmare. He was sure that was the end of Dave’s strange gentleness and curled up, waiting for the inevitable blows to fall. They never did. Dave had coaxed John into his arms and petted him until he finally fell asleep again, and this time, the nightmares did not come back.  
  
There are some things that still confuse him. Sometimes when John licks at Dave’s fingers, Dave will recoil and tense up and John is pretty sure from that reaction that he did something wrong, but he has never been able to figure out what. Dave doesn’t like it when John eats out of his hand, either – though he’ll still let him do it, sometimes, if John is too scared or upset to eat by himself.  
  
Sometimes when their eyes meet, Dave just looks terribly, terribly sad, and that’s confusing too. John has the strangest feeling that Dave is sad because of him, but there’s no anger in his eyes, just that overwhelming sadness, and sometimes tears. He wishes he could help, but he doesn’t know how. The one time he tried, crawling into Dave’s lap and licking the tears from his cheeks, it only seemed to make the sadness worse.  
  
He can’t make Dave happy. All he can do is try to please him. John is not a good pet, he knows that, but he will try for Dave’s sake. John loves his new master more than anything in the world.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, remember when I used to write this? It's been a long time, but I haven't forgotten about this fic! Hopefully I'll have time to write some more of this soon; in the meantime, here's another chapter cross-posted from the kink meme. Enjoy.

The first steps outside are slow ones, hesitant and fearful. Dave is helping John practice walking upright - something he can do, and will, but finds difficult. It is not yet natural for him; by default, he crawls. Still, Dave has hope, for the first time in a very long time. Every day is a little better. It’s like teaching him to walk again - one foot in front of the other, one step at a time, and never trying to move too fast.   
  
While John has showed no signs of discontent with his surroundings, Dave is tired of leaving him in the same room day after day, only leaving for visits to the bathroom and occasionally the kitchen. As far as he knows, John was stuck in the Condesce’s throne room for the last two years, and he’ll be damned if he’s going to do the same thing to him.   
  
John looks up when Dave walks in and sits up, rising to his knees from where he lay curled up on the floor. Dave squats in front of him and gently takes his hand. “Hey, man. Got something to show you.”   
  
John looks up at him with his head slightly tilted, interest and faint confusion visible in his bright blue eyes. It always seems to take him a while to figure out what is being said to him, but Dave is certain that he understands most of it, even if he no longer has the capacity to respond in any meaningful way. When Dave stands up, it takes a slight tug on John’s arm to prompt him to stand as well, but he does it without difficulty.   
  
As Dave opens the door and leads John through to the rest of the house, John begins leaning on him, and he wonders if it’s nervousness or a need for physical support to remain on both feet. He still trips a little, but by this point Dave’s used to it enough to catch him, keeping him upright. At some point John reaches across with his free hand and is holding onto Dave’s arm, clutching it like a lifeline. Dave squeezes his hand reassuringly.   
  
“Dave?” John says hesitantly as they pass the bathroom, and the kitchen, headed in a direction he hasn’t gone yet. Dave can feel him tensing.   
  
“It’s okay,” Dave says softly. “Nothing to be afraid of. I just thought you might like to step outside.”   
  
This causes an interesting reaction in John’s face, as he falls silent and knits his brows thoughtfully. He stumbles into Dave again as they reach the front door and Dave pulls it open with his free hand.   
  
John is rigid as they step outside and Dave is starting to wonder if this was a good idea after all. It was a little spur of the moment, and now he remembers that it’s a little chilly outside and neither he or John has a jacket on. He glances down at John’s face, reading his reactions and ready to pull him back inside at the first hint of discomfort, but despite wincing a little at the temperature John does not seem unduly bothered by the cold.   
  
A sudden gust of wind makes Dave hunch down and shiver, but in John it produces an almost miraculous reaction. His grip on Dave’s arm loosens and he steps forward, lifting his head up and taking a deep, deep breath. He stares up into the sky, an intent look on his face, and seems to strain forward. He almost looks excited.   
  
When another gust comes John tips his head back and  basks,  his hair tousled and tossed by the breeze. Slowly he lets go of Dave’s arm and reaches out, his fingers moving slightly as if he can touch the air. And maybe he can. He has demonstrated very little use of his god tier powers since he was rescued, but there are some things that are buried in him deeper than the Condesce could touch.   
  
He’s still John.   
  
Dave looks at his face and realizes to his shock that John is smiling. His eyes are closed and the corners of his mouth are upturned, and he looks more like himself than Dave seen him since before he was captured. The wind blows harder and harder and through his shivers Dave wonders if this is natural or if he’s doing the windy thing. It seems unlikely but Dave chooses to believe the latter, taking the optimistic choice for once in his life. John looks so  happy that he can almost convince himself it is the truth.   
  
A cold white flake lands on John’s outstretched hand and he jerks it back, turning to look up at Dave with pure astonishment. Despite himself, Dave grins, watching a couple more flakes landing in John’s dark hair. “It’s snow, remember? You used to get lots of it up where you lived. I never admitted it, but I was always kind of jealous.”   
  
John looks up again, watching the snow fall and not seeming to mind as the flakes land on his face and bare arms. Dave lets go of his hand in order to wrap his arms tight around John’s skinny frame, keeping both of them warm. He stays outside with him as long as he can, until he feels John start to shiver and knows they need to get in out of the cold. Even then, John is reluctant to leave, reaching into the wind as Dave leads him in.   
  
“Tomorrow,” Dave promises. “We’ll go out again tomorrow.”   
  
Later, Rose will find both of them wrapped in blankets in the kitchen as Dave attempts to teach John how to eat soup, and he will find himself subject to a severe admonishment from his ecto-sister for exposing John to the cold weather. And he won’t care in the slightest.   
  
“It was worth it, Rose. He smiled. He actually smiled.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Stumble](https://archiveofourown.org/works/328339) by [StonedFool (SoberJester)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoberJester/pseuds/StonedFool)




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